


Table Manners

by invisibledeity



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, D/s, Dominant/Submissive dynamics, Happy Sex, Light Food Play, M/M, Topping from the Bottom, he's come up with a new recipe, hinted knife play, lots of cream, pre-game, sex getting in the way of baking, thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9966170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisibledeity/pseuds/invisibledeity
Summary: Though Ignis isn't naturally drawn to D/s dynamics, his ability to deduce exactly what Prompto craves is extremely satisfying. Some hard-riding pre-game fun, featuring kitchens, flirty men and a few new recipes.A fill for the FFXV Kinkmeme.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is nearly five thousand words of dick riding I did not expect.

Late afternoon in the apartment was Ignis’s favourite time. He’d drawn the curtains, despite it not being dark yet, so he could focus better on preparing the food. Lights dimmed down low everywhere in the apartment save for the kitchen. It let him work quickly and quietly.

        There was no music to complement his work, only a bottle of white wine lying open to the side, and a glass he kept returning to in between moments of mixing, rolling and chopping. The stillness lapping at the edges of the room was immensely calming.

        Ignis had just put the pastries in the oven when he heard the front door open. A bit early for the prince to be back, surely? He had anticipated having a few more hours to experiment with the recipe. He heard a crash, an oddly high-pitched yelp, then loud footfalls in the hallway. The hapless prince had failed to remove his shoes, again.

        ‘Noct, you’ll have to wait a bit for dinner,’ he called. And finally, when he was satisfied the oven mitts were aligned just right on the worktop, he turned round.

        His eyes met a flurry of blond hair and skinny limbs. Noctis’s best friend, Prompto Argentum. The innocent problem child, and the only person Ignis knew who was even more hapless than the prince. Now that he had no need to wear a uniform any more, he’d taken to dressing in punkish clothing - such a curious contrast to his personality. And yet it suited him.

        Right now Prompto was looking at him with something akin to shock or embarrassment on his face. The slight flush brought out his freckles quite spectacularly.

        ‘Oh! Ignis… I’m sorry, I, uh, didn’t realise you’d be in.’

        Both Noctis and Prompto had finished college, and while Noct had found a summer job at a local coffee shop, Prompto hadn’t managed to find anything to occupy himself, still operating like he was on a college schedule. His face had grown quite familiar in the apartment over the course of the summer, but this was the only occasion he’d turned up alone. 

        The record bag slumped from Prompto’s shoulder as he searched the room. Noctis’s apartment was small: the kitchen and living room were combined, and the door to the empty bedroom was open. The bathroom lights were off.

        ‘Oh. He’s not here.’ The boy’s mouth downturned while his eyebrows creased upward, the perfect picture of disappointment.

        ‘He gave you the keys, didn’t he?’ Ignis would have placed a hand on his hip if it wasn’t covered in flour, so he settled for speaking a little more severely instead, and Prompto’s attention snapped to him.

        ‘Uh…’ He smiled like a child caught stealing candy. ‘Yeah, well… we were gonna play this new game after he finished work. He isn’t done yet?’

        ‘He got called to a meeting at the palace. But nice try avoiding the question. Now let’s assume for the sake of arguing that it was his idea, and not yours, to give you the keys. You still accept, knowing it’s a massive security hole.’ He fixed the younger man with a glare.    

        ‘He gave you keys too.’

        So, he was choosing to be obstinate. 

        ‘King Regis entrusted me with these keys. I’m Noctis’s royal advisor.’

        ‘And cook.’

        Ignis suppressed a groan. ‘Someone has to keep the young prince well fed.’

        ‘So, can I come in?’

        Not for the first time, Ignis wondered what it was like at home for the lad. He didn’t bother asking; Prompto always avoided the question. He looked incredibly vulnerable in that moment, and it was hard not to feel empathy.

        ‘That question seems a bit redundant now. Fine, I suppose you can stay until Noct returns. But take your shoes off, for heaven’s sake.’

        Prompto’s response to his rather stern words was to give a timid yet triumphant smile before shucking his boots off and letting the bag slip all the way to the ground. He bounded into the room, and eased himself up onto the dining table, kicking his legs idly. ‘Oh, are you trying to make that dessert again?’ He made a show of sniffing deeply, eyes fixed on the glowing oven. ‘Mmm, smells good. Can I have some when they’re done?’

        ‘You can have one. And no more.’ Ignis pushed his glasses back up with the only finger not yet covered in flour. ‘Now get off that table.’

        A shy smile, and the boy complied.

        Ignis corrected himself mentally. _He’s hardly a boy_. There were only two years of difference that separated them, but Prompto acting the way he did made it seem like so much more.

        ‘Can I have some wine?’

        Ignis’s first response was to glance with concern at the bottle.

        ‘I’m old enough,’ Prompto added, drumming his fingers slowly on the countertop.

        ‘That’s not what I’m worried about.’

        ‘Aw, c’mon, I’m not going to drink it _all_.’

        Ignis sighed. He said nothing, dusted the flour from his hands, fished a glass from the cupboard, and poured. Prompto looked disappointed that only half the glass was filled, but Ignis was not about to renege on good manners. It didn’t do to be greedy.

        ‘Thanks.’ Prompto’s cheery face lit up as he took an exaggerated gulp. ‘Ah, now that’s what I’m talking about!’ 

        Ignis couldn’t hide a smile. The lad often acted up his immaturity, almost to the point of belligerence, but today it seemed more pointed, in a way he couldn’t quite place. It didn’t stop it being incredibly cute, though. Attractive, even. He hadn’t looked at Prompto in that way too often before, which was a real missed opportunity because the boy was a treat. He wondered if Prompto was aware of his inclinations towards men. Not that he would do anything untoward without being asked. He was content just to enjoy the view.

        But, gods, that _face_. Those freckles. That perfect mouth. The things he could do…

        If that last thought was unwelcome, he quickly smothered it by thinking about what else needed prepping. The pastry cream was still chilling in the fridge, but he should probably rinse the egg whisk before the matter congealed and became tricky to scrub off.

        A sudden flash made his eyes squint.

        ‘Are you… taking my picture?’

        Prompto laughed, a mischievous grin spreading over his face as he fiddled with the buttons on his camera. ‘Heh, maybe. You just… look so serious.’ He seemed to register Ignis’s steely expression, because he added, ‘That’s not a bad thing, I swear!’

        Ignis decided he could play too. ‘Well you’ve offended me now. Come on, help me rinse up.’

        ‘Oh no, cleaning!’ Prompto mocked the punishment, but wasted no time in joining him by the sink, and for the next few minutes they fell silent save for Ignis’s occasional corrections and snippets of advice. _Don’t clean the pan interior with the rough side of the cloth, you’ll scratch it up. And wait until the water’s actually hot._

        When they had finished rinsing and setting the dishwasher, Ignis checked the oven timer, then turned to his companion.

        ‘You still haven’t heard from Noctis?’ 

        All it took was a slightly commanding raise of the eyebrow, and Prompto dug out his phone.

        ‘Oh… he says he’s not coming.’

        Ignis held out a hand. ‘Let me see that.’ 

        Prompto offered up the device without a word. Ignis took it all too quickly, scanning the message over. ‘Seems the talks are going on longer than expected. At this rate he may not be back at all.’ He handed the phone back.

        ‘More food for us!’ Prompto bent over, peered through the glass at the pastries rising and sizzling in the oven’s heat. 

        Ignis began hand-cleaning the wooden utensils - no chance he would risk ruining them in the dishwasher - and he had to shift to the side to avoid Prompto bashing his head against his legs. ‘You don’t need to be too eager. We still have some time to wait,’ he cautioned, finishing up with the mixing spoon and reaching for the rolling pin next.

        Prompto made a derisory sound, as if this fact was irrelevant. He stood up, and suddenly he was so close Ignis could see the rise and fall of his chest with striking clarity, the inviting hollow above the curve of his collarbone. ‘What shall we do while we wait?’

        And then Prompto looked up at him, eyes searching, mouth parted slightly. Utterly gorgeous. Ignis finally placed the emotion that had been eluding him. He was being _coy_. Prompto wanted something, and it was more than a mere pastry. Ignis got the sense he was waiting for another command, waiting to obey. Did he get a thrill from that? The conversation thus far indicated so. And while taking a dominant role was not Ignis’s usual style, it wasn’t entirely unheard of, and he had to admit he wanted to see where this would take him.

         _But how far does he want me to go?_

        There was one way to find out, and if he used the right language it wouldn’t complicate or make things awkward if it turned out this wasn’t the case.

        ‘Well, I suggest we continue as we were. I give the orders, and you… you will follow them to the letter. Consider it punishment for taking the keys.’ He still held the rolling pin, and he brought it down into the palm of his opposite hand with a harsh slap. Flour rose in an exultant puff.

        ‘Oh.’ The smallest of murmurs, followed by an involuntary gulp, revealed what he needed to know: Prompto was seriously turned on by this. Ignis felt a flutter of pleasure at having had such an effect.

        He tested the next step carefully, because he really didn’t want to get this wrong. He stepped in to the shallow space that remained between them, and held the rolling pin up against Prompto’s throat, a mildly possessive threat as he brought their lips close together in a tantalising near-touch. Prompto’s eyes positively danced, daring him to continue. But he held off, and whispered sternly.

        ‘Is this more what you had in mind?’

        Prompto gulped and nodded fervently, wordless for a few short seconds. Then he recovered his voice with one of the most beautiful phrases Ignis had ever heard in his life, soft-spoken and vulnerable. ‘Oh god, yes.’

        Then he discarded the rolling pin, and pushed up against the blond, trapping him against the kitchen worktop.

        ‘Now tell me.’ He threaded his fingers through the sleek locks of golden hair, tugging apart strands held together by styling product. Then he gripped hard, eliciting a breathy noise from his quivering subject. ‘Tell me what you want me to do.’

        ‘I… I want you to…’ The sentence trailed off into silence as Prompto played with his bottom lip, casting his eyes to the side. Whatever he wanted to say was clearly not just a spur-of-the-moment thing. It looked like it may have been weighing on his mind for a while.

        Ignis decided to take command of the situation and use his scolding voice to his advantage. So far, Prompto had responded well to that.

        ‘Did I say stop talking?’

        Prompto leaned in pleasantly to his renewed touch. He closed his eyes and his words were quiet and self-conscious. ‘Fuck me. Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to sit down for weeks. Make your mark on me… please…’

        Ignis smirked. They both wanted the same thing. ‘Now how could I say no to a face like that?’ He leaned in for a kiss, but Prompto wasn’t finished yet.

        ‘And, uh… restrain me.’

        Ignis framed the beautiful boy’s face with both hands, gently tracing fingers across each temple, making sure his nails could be felt. He kept his voice low and cold. ‘Are you sure? I won’t go easy on you.’

        Prompto grinned. ‘I’ll fight you if you don’t.’ He put on a show of struggling, which spurred Ignis into subduing him before he knocked over the wine. He really had been working out - those biceps were taut and lean under Ignis’s touch.

        So Ignis gripped harder, and said, ‘No. You won’t be able to. Now hold still.’

        He began to pull at the leather cuff around his wrist, but Prompto stopped him.

        ‘No - can I keep it on?’

        ‘Let’s see how good you are, then I’ll decide.’

        ‘Wait - no! Don’t even joke about that. Seriously.’

        He stopped. Prompto was genuinely upset by the suggestion, borderline tears in his eyes. He wanted to tease the boy, undoubtedly, but not in this fashion. 

        ‘Don’t worry.’ He let go of the wristband, put a finger to Prompto’s lips, and watched his panic dissolve back into heated anticipation. Then he took hold of both wrists with one hand, and used the other hand to first move the wine out of the way, then fish around in the drawer for something to tie him with.

        He had the perfect idea. From the drawer he retrieved a pack of zipties, the same ones he used to seal freezer bags. Inescapable without scissors to cut them apart. He heard Prompto’s breath choke up, felt the excitement radiating off him as he pulled two strips from the bag. His fingers worked deftly to secure each wrist to the handle of the cabinet above his head. He clasped shut the extra locking mechanism on the doors. They wouldn’t be able to swing open now, no matter the force exerted upon them.

        Prompto gasped helplessly, testing how much slack the zipties had. Ignis had made sure to leave enough space to slip a finger beneath each one, but it was nowhere near enough to wriggle out of. It was quite lovely to watch him struggle, though.

        ‘W-what if Noct comes back?’ Prompto’s eyebrows knitted upwards - this was a hint, not a question. Ignis smirked.

        ‘Ah. Of course.’ He flicked him gently on the nose, enjoying the blush he was given in return. Then he walked calmly towards the front door, and with enough deliberation to draw out the tension, he slid the security chain across. The clink of it falling into place was satisfying. He turned back to the kitchen, where Prompto watched him, wide-eyed and worried in such a beautifully angelic way. With his arms trussed up above him, it was about all he could do.

        ‘We shan’t be bothered by any late visitors.’

        When he returned he took off his glasses, placing them carefully out of the way. Then he hitched up Prompto’s vest and ran his hands up from the smooth skin of his stomach to the hard tips of his nipples. He noticed the stretch marks, the bodily evidence of years of shame and self-hatred and hard work. He remembered what Noctis had told him about their first meeting, about the fat and insecure child this man used to be. But the scars… honestly, to him they were beautiful. 

        He inclined his head and, taking one nipple in his mouth, he licked, then sucked, listened for the gasping sound of pleasure, then surprised him with a sharp, quick bite.

        ‘Oh my god.’ Prompto’s voice was reduced to a whisper. ‘Oh my god. Ignis…’

        ‘You shall address me as Sir,’ Ignis said, tapping his cheek hard enough for it to sting. It was a spur-of-the-moment improvisation, but it worked its magic well. Prompto fell into the reprimand.

        ‘Y-yes sir.’

        ‘Good lad.’ He rewarded him with a deep kiss, barely giving him room to breathe. When he pulled away, Prompto strained forward for more.    

        ‘Not yet.’ Better to leave him begging. He moved his hands down below the belt and began stroking the length of his cock instead, keeping the movements slow and torturous, feeling the bulge harden with every touch.

        Prompto bucked and strained, until eventually Ignis relented and undid his belt and buttons, pulled free his throbbing cock and began to pump it, skin on skin already slick with pre-come. The moans that came from Prompto’s mouth were positively glorious, each sound bringing his own cock to attention.

        ‘Oh, I think he likes it.’ Ignis teased him further, running his hands wherever he pleased, pulling down his trousers and boxer shorts. He had just hooked them off the left leg when the oven timer interrupted them with a harsh buzz, and Prompto flinched. Ignis laughed, and reached over to turn it off. 

        ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ he murmured, cutting off all touch abruptly, then washing his hands before occupying himself with the pastries, setting them out on the side to cool. It wouldn’t take long for that to happen: the choux dough was so light. Erect and worked up, Prompto whimpered for attention. He squirmed in the restraints, showing off his body as much as he was able, trying to entice his partner back, but Ignis merely increased his distance.

        ‘Now, let’s see…’ He retrieved the bowl of pastry cream from the fridge, and hunted for the piping bag. ‘Since you seem content to do my bidding, perhaps we can put that mouth of yours to good use.’ He filled the bag, then lightly touched each confection to check the temperature. ‘Ah, no use. It needs more time. Well, what ought we to do?’

        ‘Whatever you like, Sir.’ Prompto spoke so quick off the mark that Ignis had to smile. He was simply begging to be touched again.

        Perhaps he would surprise him. He opened another drawer and scanned its contents before selecting a fine chef’s blade, dragging it out slowly so it glinted in the light. He brought it close to Prompto’s neck, his intention merely to trace across the skin, but this time the boy’s eyes lit up with real fear. His squirming movements against the restraints stilled until he was completely frozen. No, this was an undesirable reaction. As before with the wristband, it wasn’t as fun.

        ‘No knives. So be it.’

        Ignis put down the blade, somewhat wistfully - it was such a _good_ quality kitchen knife - and gave Prompto a series of soft kisses up his neck, just enough to let him know he hadn’t really been in danger, in case he hadn’t been entirely clear. When the boy’s muscles relaxed into the kisses, Ignis broke off and set to checking the pastries again. 

        Good. They were ready. He brandished the piping bag and filled each bun’s hollow with cream. Then, satisfied with the presentation, he picked one up and turned back to his willing captive.

        ‘Why don’t you taste test for me?’

        Prompto accepted the treat gratefully. When he started to lean in to his hand, Ignis tutted and pulled it out of reach. ‘Don’t be greedy, now.’ Then he stuck his fingers into the bun’s cavity, and smeared cream across Prompto’s bared chest, not even caring that some got caught on his pulled-up vest. He was slow and sensuous about it, and once he was done he took his sweet time licking the cream off him, grazing his nipples repeatedly until the boy cried out from overstimulation. The sight of his erect cock pulsing set his nerves aglow all the more, made him worship the boy’s body over again with his tongue, but faster and harder this time. When he was satisfied, he brought his cream-soaked fingers to Prompto’s lips, teased them apart, made him accept the sweet offering. Prompto _sucked_ , and boy could he suck deep. Ignis felt his cock pulse unbearably, and he almost regretted putting him in such an upright position.

        The nice thing about this position, though, was it provided easy access to other areas. Ignis saddled his hands either side of Prompto’s hips, marvelling at how lithe and grabbable he was. ‘Up you go,’ he said as he hoisted him into a sitting position on the worktop. Prompto eagerly used his feet to push up and assist him. Then Ignis firmly spread his legs apart and slipped a hand round the shaft of his cock, steering downward to the base, cupping round the balls before reaching for his ass. The hole was a little hard to reach, so he hefted his hands round Prompto’s thighs again and dragged his butt forward while pushing his knees back, exposing him.

        All the while Prompto was looking up at him, yearning. The red flush peppering his cheeks brought out the blue in his eyes all the more. When Ignis began running his finger in circles around the opening of his asshole, Prompto uttered the sweetest, neediest little cries. Then, as Ignis teased a finger in, he spoke.

        ‘Ig… Sir?’

        He raised an eyebrow, an indication that Prompto was to continue speaking.

        ‘I - well, I mean we - need lube. Sir.’

        ‘That we do.’ Ignis stepped back, flicking his fingers up the length of him as he did so, eliciting yet another delightful noise. ‘Don’t slip off the edge. I’ll be _most_ displeased if you give me more work to do.’

        He’d cleaned Noctis’s bedroom enough times to know exactly where the prince kept his lube. Noctis wasn’t going to notice the difference, and if he did he was unlikely to mention it to him. So far the prince thought he was being so sly with his supplies.

        He paused by the cupboard. He needed condoms too - he wasn’t about to ride Prompto bare. The boy liked incredibly spicy food, for heaven’s sake. He’d been stung by that one before.

        By the time he returned he was satisfied to see Prompto had not slipped his feet back to the ground. He’d half expected this, as it would have given him another reason to be scolded. But Prompto was eyeing him expectantly, like a hopeful pup. He wanted praise for good behaviour.

        ‘Well done,’ Ignis murmured, letting a sliver of warmth leak into his voice. ‘I’ll prep you well for your obedience.’ Prompto smiled - so jarringly heartwarming and innocent in spite of the crude position he was in.

        ‘Thank you, Sir.’

        The boy learned fast. Ignis let a wry smile escape the corners of his mouth as he popped the cap and emptied a generous amount of lubricant onto his hands. He returned to playing with Prompto’s ass, stretching the opening gently at first, enough for one finger, reaching in to find pleasureable spots and listening for the sounds he made all the while. It took a while for Prompto to ease up, but when he was ready he introduced a second finger, and the quality of Prompto’s voice changed, making raw heat pool in his groin. He had to have him, _now_.

        He undid his fly and let loose the buttons on his boxer shorts until his dick swung free, then after indulging himself in a few gratuitous pumps of the shaft, he slipped on the condom, covered it in yet more lube, then angled forward and pressed against Prompto’s opening. He lined himself up, then slowly, amidst the biting murmurs and heated groans, he eased himself in. 

         _Fuck_ , he was so _tight_. Ignis felt his nerves shudder with pleasure as the sensation gripped the head of his cock. Then he pushed the head through entirely, dragging out a husky panting from himself, and an even lower moan from his companion. He nuzzled his cheek against Prompto’s, speaking hoarsely the words he so badly wanted to hear.

        ‘You're going to ride me until I come.’ He gripped him harder, making sure to keep the heaviest hold where bruises would not be noticed. ‘This is for my pleasure, and mine alone. Your body will service my cock until I’m satisfied.’ He paused, drinking in the feverish lust in the boy’s expression. Then he tapped him sharply on the cheek again, as if waking him from a reverie. ‘Say “Yes, Sir”.’

        Prompto complied instantly, and Ignis thrust hard when he got to the end of the sentence, causing the words to lilt upwards into a yelp of agony and pleasure. That, combined with the rubbing sensation along his entire length, made the hairs on the back of his neck tingle deliciously.

        He buried himself deep and held it there, then slowly pulled back. He repeated this motion over and over, developing a steady rhythm. 

        Then he found a sweet spot where friction finally gave way to nothing but smooth, tight, even pressure, and he picked up the pace. Prompto’s cries became harsher and more ragged as the head of Ignis’s dick hit bundles of nerves he likely didn’t know had even existed. Ignis took no small pleasure in this, and it drove him to fuck harder.

        He kissed as he fucked, not caring too much where the kisses landed, only being interested in covering as much of his body as possible. Prompto was starved for breath and powerless to stop the onslaught, his tied wrists providing the perfect bracing point as Ignis pulled his thighs forward, mounting him on his dick as he simultaneously drove himself forward.

        He was getting closer. God, all it would take is one - 

        Prompto interrupted his thought by wailing in heavenly agony during a particularly heavy thrust. Ignis gasped - the final wave hit and he emptied his load with a ferocity that left him shaking and tingling and breathless.

        He panted against Prompto’s shoulder, only moving when Prompto squirmed at his breath tickling his armpit. Then, ever so slowly, he pulled out. He unsheathed the condom from his limp dick and heard Prompto giggle softly. 

        ‘Wow, I did well, huh?’

        He raised his eyebrow in question. Prompto was looking at the condom. Ah. There was rather a lot in there. He smiled, and gave Prompto a peck on the cheek. ‘That you most certainly did.’ 

        ‘Can I play the game I brought after this?’ _Oh bless his eager soul._

        ‘Do you think you’ve earned such a reward?’

        ‘Um… I…’ Prompto looked pointedly at the condom. ‘Oh please…’

        ‘I don’t think you’ve worked hard enough for it yet.’ Ignis enjoyed the rather worried expression his words caused.

        ‘W-what else would you like me to do, Sir?’

        He had to laugh. The poor boy was awfully slow on the uptake. ‘Just stay right where you are,’ he said, and he stepped in to grasp Prompto’s still-erect length, pumping it hard at first, then slow, varying tempo and technique until the boy’s face was a torturous hot mess of expression. He held off when he felt the orgasm growing to a peak, maintaining an agonizing cycle of arousal and denial. Now that he wasn’t caught up in the throes of his own orgasm, he was able to appreciate those angelic cries all the more. 

        Prompto’s skin began shuddering beneath the touch of his free hand. He was so lost, so sunken in bliss that his body was having trouble taking it any more. This time Ignis didn’t hold off, and Prompto came hard, painting not only his own stomach, but Ignis’s hand and a sizeable spread of the kitchen floor.

        Ignis released his grip, and used his free hand to pull Prompto’s chin forward, forcing him to see the fruits of his labour.

        ‘Oh, you’re such a _dirty_ boy - look at all the mess you’ve made.’

        ‘Ah - I’m sorry, Sir.’

        Ignis tapped his cheek again, but this time he added no sting to the action. 

        ‘No need. I’m not your master any more.’ They shared a smile, then Ignis broke away to search for the kitchen scissors. Once he found them, he paused to enjoy the vision that lay before him. Prompto’s hair was curled and frazzled at the tips, his eyes grown glassy and his normally-pale skin flushed red with exertion. A dreamy smile floated over his lips. Everything about him screamed contentment.

        Ignis cut him free, and when he had quite recovered, he slid off the worktop and tried to regain control on shaky legs. 

        ‘Whoah! It’s slippy.’

        ‘Indeed - no thanks to your contribution.’ Ignis raised an eyebrow humorously and Prompto grimaced in embarrassment. He stood there for a while longer, half-naked and half-decided over what to do next. Eventually he settled on reaching for Ignis’s hand.

        ‘Um, thank you. I mean… that was awesome.’

        ‘You didn’t see it from my point of view. It was _heavenly_ ,’ Ignis said.

        Prompto beamed. 

        ‘Do I, uh, have permission to play my game now?’

        Ignis wanted to laugh aloud. Sometimes the lad was just too predictable.

        ‘Not yet,’ he cautioned. ‘You are to go into the bathroom and clean yourself up. And that means a _full shower_ ,’ he called after Prompto as the shattered youth stumbled his way obediently across the room, a huge grin over his freckled face. 

        Ignis leaned against the worktop in the wake their activity. He was honestly surprised that the wine and the rest of the pastries had made it out of the escapade unscathed. Still, there was no chance he was going to risk Noctis tasting this batch now.

        He scanned the rest of the room. He’d have to disinfect the utensils, the worktop too. And the floor. Then he’d need to wash their clothes. He kept spare clothes here for himself, since he was round often enough. And Prompto would have no problem getting away with borrowing something of Noctis’s. Regardless, there was going to be a lot of cleaning to do. But by the gods, it had been worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for the FFXV Kinkmeme.
> 
> Original request:  
> Prompto is confident in his subby self, and though Ignis isn't naturally drawn to D/s dynamics, his ability to deduce exactly what Prompto craves is extremely satisfying. 
> 
> Plenty of dirty talk would be wonderful, as would two contented boys having fun with Ignis' clever mind and fingers. 
> 
> http://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/841.html?thread=30793


End file.
